Chapter Text
Gabriel had been looking for her for nearly twenty minutes.
It wasn't like this was unusual for her.
Whenever Lady Vargas disappeared, she could usually be found in one of three places: asleep beneath the largest oak tree in the garden, wandering through a field of flowers, or bothering Roderich while he attempted to work.
Today, it was the field of flowers.
Gabriel spotted her almost immediately, crouched among a sea of yellow blossoms. Her basket sat long forgotten beside her, the young nation's mint-green dress pooling around her ankles as she watched a butterfly flutter from bloom to bloom with complete fascination.
"Lady Vargas." Gabriel called out.
The small nation startled, lifting her head at the sound of her name. Then, a bright smile appeared on her face, and she tilted her head before waving at the young boy in black clothing.
"Gabriel!" She called back happily, beckoning him to come over. "Come! Come look at this butterfly! It's super pretty!"
Gabriel wasn't sure why a butterfly would require such urgency, but he found himself crossing the field to the girl anyway.
The butterfly was very pretty, actually. Its delicate, fluttering wings were a mix of colours, and Gabriel watched the way it settled on a particularly bright flower, its spindly proboscis uncoiling as it drank from the flower before fluttering a few feet away.
"Isn't it pretty?" Lady Vargas asked happily. "I think it's my favourite butterfly I've seen this week."
"You rank butterflies?" Gabriel asked, tilting his head curiously.
"Of course!" She giggled.
Gabriel blinked. But then again, it was Lady Vargas, so this wasn't anything out of the ordinary.
"There was a yellow one yesterday, but this one is prettier." She continued, amber eyes meeting Gabriel's icy blue ones.
“Lady Vargas.”
The accented voice broke through the soft hum of the field.
"Ah–!" She turned instantly, brightness snapping back into place like nothing had ever held her still. “Coming!”
She waved at Gabriel again, quick and cheerful, before darting away through the flowers to Roderich, who was waiting for the Italian girl.
Gabriel watched her go for a moment longer than necessary, smiling softly before he even realised it.
Then, slowly, he followed behind, treading through the yellow blossoms carefully.